


The sound of her laughter will sing

by pengukat



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Interpretation of a musical standard as an obsessive-stalker song, One-sided longing, Post Series 1, Though Villanelle is TOTALLY going through her own shit as well for sure, dream - Freeform, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 07:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15165971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengukat/pseuds/pengukat
Summary: Whenever Eve puts on some sad music and imbibes a few glasses of wine, which happens nearly every night now, she dreams about the night Bill dies.





	The sound of her laughter will sing

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to decide where this fits in with everything else I've written, except I feel like it applies to all versions of Eve I've written, so for now I'll just keep it unattached to any other of my series. 
> 
> The title is a lyric borrowed/shamelessly stolen from Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Some Enchanted Evening."

Whenever Eve puts on some sad music and imbibes a few glasses of wine, which happens nearly every night now, she dreams about the night Bill dies.

Strangely, Bill himself - falling, bleeding, dying - rarely appears in the dream, like her heart refuses to examine her grief too closely. It's the nightclub - pulsing, swirling, throbbing magenta, engulfing her, swallowing her whole - that features the most prominently.

Eve stands somewhere on the edge of the teaming field of life, the throngs and masses of human bodies and flailing limbs, all celebrating in unison. It's the final resting ground for her best friend, who is somewhere buried in the middle of it all. 

At some point, the crowds part, in slow motion, revealing the pale face of a predator, and everything else fades away. The music, the throbbing, the noise, the moment - all is replaced with just her and her alone, on the other side of the dance floor. Her twisted smile reveals her bared teeth, like fangs, gleaming in the light. 

Eve's feet begin to carry her, then, towards that shining beacon of death, but no matter how many steps she takes, the distance between then never closes. She just keeps moving, pushing through the crowd, constantly, and death remains just as far away as before.

It's emblematic of Eve's relationship with Villanelle in real life - Eve, chasing, seeking, and never to reach; Villanelle, always within sight, and never close enough to touch. Whenever she becomes aware of this in the dream, it means her conscious brain is alert enough to rouse her from her slumber, and she spends the rest of her night curled up on the couch, nursing a glass of wine, eyes wide and unblinking.

Other times, her dream self, almost in a deliberate attempt to keep her conscious self at bay, focuses forcefully on Villanelle and the dance floor, contemplating all the ways the distance between them might shrink.

Eve could banish everyone and everything else, a single flick of a dream wand, and there go the lights, the music, the people, the memory of Bill strewn across the floor - spirited everything away, leaving nothing but Eve and Villanelle alone in a room, alone on a blank canvas.

Villanelle could be the one to bridge the gap, charging towards her, parting the sea of crowds like Moses, letting them scatter in her wake. Would Eve turn and run, like Bill must have? Or would she stand her ground, resolutely meeting Villanelle's assault, like an impenetrable shield defending against an unbreakable spear?

But sometimes Eve is the spear, and Villanelle is the shield, impaling herself upon Eve, the knife in Eve's hand, the knife that Eve brandishes before her, welded to her arm like an extra limb. The knife cannot be removed, no matter how hard Eve tries, and whenever Villanelle is within range all Eve can ever do is strike her in the core, producing an eruption of blood-red fissures all over Villanelle's torso. 

It's frustrating. All Eve wants to do is dance with Villanelle, and everything keeps getting in the way.

Villanelle always laughs at her, mocking Eve for her intentions. 

"All you had to do was keep your hands to yourself," she calls, "and not stab me."

Yeah, maybe if you'd kept your hands to yourself, too! she wants to shout back.

But it's dishonest. Bill's dead, Villanelle's alive, and Eve still wants to dance.

"You ruin everything," Villanelle tells her. "You ruin everything you touch."

"So do you," Eve cries back. 

Eve will start running, then sprinting, gathering speed, and finally takes a leap - into the air - suspended in what feels like forever. 

Sometimes, she just falls, and keeps falling, into a dark, unending void from which there is no escape.

Other times, she lands in the middle of the throngs of people, and they trample all over her, crushing her beneath their feet. 

And on occasion, she crashes straight into Villanelle, bowling them both over, their bodies becoming a tangled mass of limbs and hair and hands and blood.

She always wakes up before she finds out what happens next. 

Something is always wet. Her eyes, her mouth, her - 

She'll touch herself, probing at the wetness, imagining that it could be something else, someone else. 

And echoing in her ears, always, is the sound of Villanelle laughing. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm just procrastinating at this point, gah.
> 
> Song and lyrics here: https://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/southpacific/someenchantedevening.htm


End file.
